Once Upon A Head
by ASKessler
Summary: Heavy Slash: MesserFlack. Synopsis: While investigating the delivery of a head to a hospital, Don and Danny get caught in the middle of a hostage situation.


Title: Once Upon A Head

Author: A.S. Kessler

Dedication: To K.H. (Top41) for her beta and to the ER crew at S.H. who went through a real life situation similar to this one. _God, that was a bad night!_

Spoilers: None

Rating: M (NC-17) Violence, sexual situations. Heavy slash Danny/Don

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money on it. Just for fun.

Synopsis: While investigating the delivery of a head to a hospital, Don and Danny get caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

Translation: Anytime, anywhere, baby.

CSI Danny Messer walked up the ramp of the emergency room, kit in hand. He stepped between a pair of ambulances and dodged two paramedics loading an empty gurney. Detective Donald Flack met him just inside as the twin doors swung apart.

One glance at the waiting room told the CSI that the place was hopping. Don caught the sleeve of Danny's suit coat and tugged him past triage and security and further into the emergency room. "Package came this morning, through shipping," Don told him as they walked through the emergency department. Both men had to sidestep wheelchairs, gurneys, patients, doctors and nurses and a pair of toddler twins that had escaped from some frantic parent. One elderly man tried to get their attention, asking for 'Martha'. Then again, he was asking everyone for 'Martha'. "They delivered it to the ER," Don continued. "The ER triage doc on call opened it up and called us. Said there wasn't much he could do for the guy. They're wondering if we couldn't move our little party to the morgue; it's tying up a room."

Danny glanced around at the semi-organized chaos. "Doesn't look like one room's gonna make much of a difference, but..." he trailed off and shrugged. "Lemme see what we've got first, huh? That doc still around?" He hated hospitals; hated them with the same passion he reserved for child abusers and serial killers. When they weren't making you wait around forever, they treated you like cattle. They were noisy, smelled of disinfectant and death and were full of sick people germs. You didn't come to a hospital to get rest, that was for certain.

Don pulled the door aside to one room that had the privacy curtain drawn also. Danny stepped inside and flipped on the overhead lighting. Laying on the gurney was a square box lined with styrofoam. Between the smell of anticeptic and adhesives, Danny picked up the definite odor of copper. He set his kit down on the small portable table and pulled out a pair of gloves. Something told him that this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Yeah, he's still on duty," Don replied. "Doctor Marcos Gutierrez. He's working on a patient right now; said to contact the charge nurse when we're ready for him and he'll snag the first break he gets to answer any questions. The box came addressed to him, indirectly."

"Indirectly?" Danny looked at the outside of the box. Sure enough, the hospital address was scrawled in permanent marker and the name was marked: Head Doctor, Emurgency Dept. "Emergency's misspelled," Danny said, more to himself than to Don, but the Detective wrote it down in his notebook anyway. "Who's handled the outside of this box?" Danny asked.

Don grinned. "Half of Manhatten, likely," he replied. "This was actually shipped US Mail. So much for fragile, hazardous, perishable or liquid." He flashed Danny a lop-sided grin before getting all serious again. "Went through the post office, through shipping here, to any number of hospital employees before landing in Doctor Gutierrez's hands. I'd bet there's at least thirty prints on that box."

"Wonder how come the post office didn't flag it?" Danny mused, again talking aloud to himself. He looked at the return address. "Grayson Medical Center?"

Don nodded. "Non-existant," he replied. "Already did a search on the return address... it's bogus. But since it's listed as coming from a medical center, albeit ficticious, to a hospital, it might explain how it didn't get flagged by the P.O." Don watched Danny. The CSI had practically circled the gurney, looking the box over from every possible angle. The only thing the man had yet to do was touch it. "You gonna open it or turn the handle and wait for it to pop out?"

Danny stopped to throw a glare at him. "You in a hurry? Hot date tonight or something?"

Don smiled at him. "Nah, Carla cancelled," he replied. "Figured I might call up a friend of mine... order a pizza, get some beer and watch the Yankees game tonight."

Danny reached over and removed the styrofoam lid on the box slowly, as if he half-expected something to jump out at him. He peeked in, seeing only a head of very dark brown, thinning hair on what appeared to be a male head. "Might wanna re-think your choice for dinner," Danny swallowed back the bile that threatened to come up his esophagus. "Go with something less..." he was at a loss for what to say next.

Don glanced over. He hadn't seen the contents of the box yet. Years of training in the field had taught him that discretion was definitely better on the stomach and central nervous system than valor. When Danny reached over and picked up his camera, Don got a decent look. Immediately, pizza was off the menu options.

"Well," Danny said slowly as he snapped off a half dozen photos. "I think I can figure out COD."

"Ya think?"

Danny stopped shooting film long enough to glance at the detective. Don looked positively green. It wasn't just the sight either; the smell of blood was heavy in the air, even though there appeared to be very little in the box itself.

"Uh, Danny," Don said slowly. "You think you'd be okay if I... just... stepped..." He was already backing out of the room.

Danny reached over and handed Don a disposible basin. "Out. Take this and go puke in the hall." Under normal circumstances, Danny would be a bit more understanding and caring about his friend's nausea. A head in a box wasn't exactly normal.

As Don stepped out into the corridor, Danny went back to shooting pictures of the head. He then set the camera down and studied the situation. The head was severed totally. Despite the close quarters, it definitely looked male, caucasian, mid-age at a rough guess and the skin appeared to have been either burnt or frozen. Judging by the lack of decomposition, Danny guessed frozen, but the box was void of any water or watermarks. '_Dry ice, maybe,_' he mused. '_Dry ice doesn't melt; it evaporates._'

It didn't take long to conclude that this wasn't really a crime scene per-se and that since his DB was definitely portable, he might be better going over things with the coroner in the confines of the CSI morgue. He did want to talk with the doctor who accepted the package, but he'd have to secure his scene first. He put the styrofoam lid back on the box and closed up the cardboard over it, then poked his head into the hall. Don was resting against the wall, catching his breath. The bucket Danny had given him was in one hand, fortunately empty.

"Hey Flack?" Danny said. "I wanna talk to that doctor, but I need to secure our buddy in here first. Either need to lock it up or put a detail on it."

Don looked over and nodded at Danny. "I'll talk to the charge nurse then get a uniform in here to watch it." He pushed off the wall and headed to the main station to find the charge nurse. He wasn't gone two minutes when Danny heard the sound of screams from around the corner. People scrambled in every direction as two shots rang out. To Danny, they may as well have been cannon blasts for as loud as they sounded.

He looked around. Thinking fast, Danny opened up the cabinets over the sink and emptied the shelves of bandages and gauze, bottles of betadine and emesis basins. He picked up the head-in-the-box and stuck it on the very top shelf, then closed the cabinet doors. He snagged a roll of medical tape and ran five horizontal strips across the front of the two doors, then two more vertical ones that wrapped underneath. He grabbed a marker from his kit and wrote "Evidence - Do Not Open" across all five horizontal strips. As three more shots rang out, two hospital aides ducked into his room, each with one of the twin boys under an arm. A man on crutches followed them in.

"What's going on out there?" Danny demanded.

"Somebody's shooting," the blond aide exclaimed. "Doctor Parroni was in with a patient and two guys just walked in with guns and started shooting."

A nurse ushered three more people into the small room. It was starting to get a bit claustrophobic. "Everybody stay calm," the RN said quietly. "The police are already here."

"Yeah," Danny exclaimed. "One's nauseous out there and one's getting crowded in here. Let me through please." He started for the doorway, but stopped at the young female aide. "See that cabinet with the tape on it?" She nodded. "It stays shut. Nobody opens it; nobody touches it. There's nothing in there except for what I put there. And it stays there. You're in charge of it..." he looked at her identification card "...Sarah. Think of it as a 'chain of custody' deal. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay, officer..." _God he was cute_. She hinted for his name and was rewarded with a flash of a smile from him.

"Messer. Detective Danny Messer." He headed for the door and stopped by the RN. "What's the head count out there?"

"I saw four men with guns," she informed him. "Twenty-six patients, assorted family members, four doctors and thirteen staff members on shift. Most of them are trapped in the station. I think it's a gang thing," she added. "One of our patients was involved in a stabbing about an hour ago. He was Doctor Parroni's case in room twelve. That's one of the trauma rooms around the corner."

Danny gave a silent groan. He hadn't left the room yet and already the gun count doubled. '_Eyewitnesses... could be twelve out there for all they know._' "And the rival came in to finish the job," Danny said, more to himself than the others present. '_Please don't be Tanglewood... please don't be Tanglewood... PLEASE, dear God, don't let it be Tanglewood._' He looked at the RN once more. "Once I step out there, this door slides shut and doesn't open again until I knock four times and announce myself," he instructed. "Prop that chair in front of the slide so it won't open." One more shot sounded and everyone in the room ducked out of reflex.

Danny poked his head out of the doorway and looked both ways. Despite the last shot, he coast seemed clear. Those patients that had been in the hall were now under cover somewhere. All five doors across from where he was standing were shut and from somewhere inside one of them, he could still hear the old man asking for 'Martha'. He stepped out into the corridor slowly, keeping his back to the wall. The RN slid the door to the room shut slowly and he heard the chair thud against it. For better or for worse, he was now involved in the situation.

Meanwhile, as soon as Don had reached the nurse's station, things had gone from weird to bad to worse in a matter of seconds. He'd seen two of the three men that had wandered toward one of the rooms but the ER had been so chaotic that he dismissed them as friends or family of someone. As the brunette at the desk called for the charge nurse, several screams sounded from down the corridor. Don tracked the origin to trauma room twelve just as pandemonium hit. Two shots reverberated throughout the department. Patients, family members and staff scattered in all directions. The two men he'd seen approaching room twelve each ducked into a different room, guns drawn.

"Down!" Don yelled to the staff at the main station. "Everybody down!" He grabbed his gun from its holster just as one man opened room twelve's door. The young man brought a gun up, aimed in Don's direction and popped off three more shots. Flack dove behind the counter just as pieces of Formica countertop splintered over his head. He'd been missed by inches.

As he crouched on his hands and knees behind the counter, he felt someone tap him on the ankle. Don turned back and stared at the big brown eyes of a fairly young, rather attractive woman wearing white and purple scrubs. She smiled and motioned with her hand for him to follow her. She then crawled back the way she had come, behind a wire rack and into the station. Don followed her. Once inside the half-walled station, she sat under the counter that doubled for a desk. "Karen Hawley," she introduced herself. "Charge nurse."

Don peered over the half-wall to try to get the positions of the gunmen, then crouched down quick when one more shot burst through the plexiglass half-wall topper. "Detective Don Flack, NYPD," he introduced back. "Who's in room..." he peeked once more to get the number. "...twelve?"

Karen reached over her head onto the counter and fished around until she found a clipboard. Attached to the binder was a hastily torn off piece of computer paper with the feeder threads still attached. She handed it to Don. "Patient list," she told him. "We've got twenty-six patients at the moment and who knows how many family members but it's supposed to be limited to two per patient. A few might have three and others may have none but it should give you a rough idea of how many people are in the department right now. We've got four doctors and thirteen on staff."

Don did some quick math. Twenty-six patients, average two visitors per made fifty-two, plus four doctors and thirteen staff made for a whopping ninety-five potential hostages! Approximately. He glanced at the listing and saw the patient's name for room twelve: Raymond Mulhearn. Written next to it in quick scrawl were the letters 'M-SB'. Don pointed to it. "What's this?"

Karen looked. "M-SB: multiple stabbing. I tried to get as many conditions listed as I could. Thought you might need to know who's where with what." Under any normal circumstance, HIIPA would prevent the release of confidential patient conditions and information, but this wasn't normal. This was one of those situations where it would help to know who could move themselves and who would need help; who was lucid and who was out of things mentally.

"You're quick," Don told her. He was impressed that she'd kept her head enough in the split seconds of gunfire to get him a census and a listing of conditions. "How many staff in room twelve?"

"Just two," she replied. "Doctor Parroni and one RN."

Don looked around the station, getting a feel for what cover he had. The area where they were crouched offered mild protection from room twelve, but he had noticed two others with guns and they were in rooms thirteen and ten respectively. He glanced at the clipboard. Room ten had an elderly woman in with an unknown, unlisted condition and room thirteen had an eight year old with whatever was 'C-2BB'. It was like deciphering the hieroglyphics. "C, 2 BB?" Don asked.

"Concussion, two broken bones," Karen told him. "Jacob Shiffer, eight years old. His mother's in there with him.

Don glanced down the listing at the other abbreviations. "MVA? Motor vehicle accident?" Karen nodded. "What's... FDGB?"

"Fall down go boom," Karen managed a small smile. "CVA is a stroke and MI is heart attack. I think that's all I had time to get listed. We're going to have to try to get staff into some of these rooms. Some of these patients are critical."

Don nodded. Right now, it wasn't feasible. He put it on a mental 'to do' list. "Is there a PA into the rooms?"

Karen pointed to the far wall. Sure enough, a box with a phone attachment was mounted to the wall but unfortunately, Don noticed that it was in direct line of fire to room twelve. That was out. "Anyone call the police yet?" Karen shook her head.

Don snagged the phone from the desktop. "Outside line?"

"Nine," came the reply.

Don punched in '9-911', gave the dispatcher his identification, badge number and explained the situation. Once he hung up the phone, he reached for his cell phone to call Danny.

Karen put one hand on his forearm to stop him. "That won't work in here," she told him.

Don glanced at the display. Sure enough, 'no service available' was printed across the small screen. _Damn._ Somehow, Don doubted that Danny would stay put for long.

With his back against the wall, Danny poked his head carefully around the corner to take stock of the situation. The corridor was a virtual obstacle course of wheelchairs, dropped supplies, and a stray dirty laundry hamper. There was also one man on the ground halfway between Danny and the end of the corridor. For a fleeting moment, Danny thought it might be Don. His heart skipped a few beats at the thought. The man was bleeding from the abdomen. "Flack?" Danny called quietly.

Don heard his name and glanced around the counter of the station. From his angle, he could see Danny's back pressed up against the wall. "Stay down, Messer," Don called over.

Danny's gaze shifted from the man on the ground to the sound of Don's voice. Flack was in the station. "Don, there's a man down... where're the perps?"

"Ten, twelve, thirteen," Don called out quietly. "Keep back, Danny. I mean it."

Danny glanced around the corridor, looking for anything that he might possibly use for a shield. There wasn't anything there that would even remotely stop a bullet. Then his eyes fell on a large cart at the far end of the corridor. It was red, on wheels and about waist high. He'd have to crouch but it'd make decent cover. Danny slipped over and unplugged it from the wall outlet, then started pushing it toward the other hallway.

Things were quiet once he turned the corner. Danny pushed the cart ahead of him, keeping his head down behind it. He maneuvered around the laundry hamper and nudged a stray crutch out of his way. He had almost reached the downed man when he could hear Flack swearing quietly.

Don thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw the large, red crash cart moving slowly up the corridor. Once he realized it was actually moving, he just _knew _who was behind it. "Shit, Messer, God _damn _it, I told you to stay put," he hissed. He peered over the station's half-wall to the three rooms that contained hostiles. So far, all three were closed. Just then, he heard a loud clatter. The cart that Danny was pushing hit a wheel chair!

Danny heard that he'd hit something just as the cart stopped moving. He was almost right next to the downed man, who he could now see was one of the hospital's security personnel. Danny reached out and snagged the man by his wrist and began to pull him back the way he'd come. His only problem was that he couldn't pull the man and the cart at the same time. Danny quickly decided on speed over delicacy. He abandoned the cart, grabbed the man's other wrist and started quickly walking backwards toward the safety of the back corridor.

At the clatter, Don glanced at the three rooms. Sure enough, the door to room thirteen began to open. A dark-haired male peered out cautiously. He saw movement in the corridor and brought his gun up. A gunshot rang out and a bullet ripped into the side of the crash cart. Don had no choice. In one fluid motion he stood, aimed and fired once at the young man. His shot ripped through the plexiglass half-wall topper and into the young man's upper chest. He dropped to the ground.

Danny dragged the man around the corner and over to the room he'd left the others in. He knocked on the door four times quickly. "It's Messer," he said. "Open up; I have a patient here."

A slight shuffle of furniture sounded from behind the door and it slid open. The RN glanced both ways before spotting the man on the ground. "Sarah, grab something to use for pressure here... John, get the crash ca..." she looked over at where the cart was supposed to be plugged in. "Where's the crash cart?" she asked, glancing up at Danny.

Danny pointed. "I had to use it to get him," he admitted. "I can go get it if you really need it but it's got a bullet hole in it."

She shook her head. "We'll manage for now," she said. "If things get worse, I'll let you know."

From overhead, the speakers announced, "Code Blue, room two eight six. Code Blue, room two eight six. Code Blue, room two eight six." Danny glanced at the RN. She shook her head. "It just got worse." At Danny's puzzled frown, she explained, "I'm the code nurse. I'm supposed to go to that, as is Dr. Michaelson."

Danny swore under his breath. Someone else was dying and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it. He wondered how many counts of murder these three guys were going to be up for. If anyone in the ER died as a result of being held under seige, they could conceivably be charged with their murders as well. He glanced over at the twin glass sliding doors that led to the ambulance ramp and the waiting room. Just a short corridor width away was freedom and the rest of the hospital. He had to do _something_. "Stay here," Danny told her. "I have an idea."

He jogged over to the other corridor edge and peered around the corner. "Flack?"

"Messer, if you do that again, I swear I'm gonna..."

"Don, where's Dr. Michaelson?"

Don glanced around the station. A fairly young-looking man who was crouched under the main desk waved a hand at the detective. "I need to be at that code," he told Flack. "If your partner's got a plan, I'd love to hear it."

"He's in here, Messer," Don called back. "I'll assume you have an idea that's going to give me a heart attack?"

"Yes," Danny replied with a grin. He could just picture Don swearing at him and he had a hunch if they both walked out of this situation alive, he'd be facing another round of his backside versus Don's hand. "Move Michaelson to the other side of the desk, between the wire rack and the counter and have him hold until I give the word."

Dr. Michaelson crawled over by Don and Karen. "I'm putting you in for a promotion," he told Karen. Don nodded in agreement and showed the doctor where to sit put until Messer got his crazy plan to work.

Danny turned back to the three staff members who were helping the guard. "Sarah... John... got a job for you," he said. "Quick as you can, check these other rooms. I want whoever's _mobile_, and I mean able to run, out into the corridor and up against that wall there..." he pointed. "Everyone else stays put. Now."

Two minutes later, eighteen people were lined up against the wall. The three staff members elected to remain behind to take care of the rest of the people trapped in their corridor section and several had volunteered to carry out children who couldn't move as fast. Danny headed to the corner again. "Don?" he called.

Don glanced over the counter at the sound of Danny's voice. He had a pretty clear view of Messer and watched as the man began to signal his intent.

Danny was glad when Don looked over. He didn't want to shout his plan into the corridor for anyone to hear. He pointed to himself and held up his service piece, then gestured down the hall with it and flashed his fingers at Don: five, five, two. He then pointed to Don, gestured to his gun again and flashed his fingers at Don again: five, five. He then pointed up with one finger, then batted his hand into the air toward the outside.

It took a minute for Flack to grasp Danny's signs. Suddenly it made perfect sense. He and Danny would cover the rooms; Danny covering rooms twelve and thirteen and Don - due to his angle - would cover room ten. If they had to fire to cover, they would fire high and outside while the doctor made his move. Don gave Danny a thumb's up.

Danny turned back to the others. "Okay, on my mark, everyone hits that door and keeps going. One..." Danny inched his way toward the door sensor, which unfortunately was in the open. "Two... three." His hand slammed against the door sensor. The twin glass doors slid open and Danny quickly moved into the open corridor to cover their escape.

From behind the desk, the Dr. Michaelson broke cover and headed toward Danny and the others. Don had moved to the other side of the station and stood long enough to get the best coverage as possible of the three rooms. He also got the first glance of the young man he'd shot, who was laying unmoving on the ground. He looked dead. As soon as the group had cleared the doors, Danny followed them to safety and Don ducked back into the station. They'd successfully evacuated twenty-three people without firing a shot.

Things seemed quiet. Don glanced at the intercom system, then reached up and punched the button for room ten. He took the receiver off the cradle and held it to his ear. "Hey..." he said into the phone. "I know you can hear me; this is Detective Don Flack, NYPD. Don't be stupid about this. If anyone dies today as a result of this, it counts as murder one. If you give yourself up now, we can talk about a deal." He waited and watched the door for any sign of acknowledgement... or hostility.

Several minutes later, Don was about to give up and hang up the intercom when a quiet male voice replied, "_What do you want me to do_?"

Don smiled grimly to himself. "Slide your gun out and down the corridor to your... left, then come out of the room straight ahead and into the station."

"_Nuh-uh_," the voice replied. "_I come out and Tony will grease me_."

"Who's Tony?" Don asked. It helped to know which thug he'd be dealing with.

"_Tony Kennecott_," came the reply. "_The guy in with Ray_."

"Who're you? What's your name?"

"_Dean Walden_."

Don nodded even though he knew the guy couldn't see him. The guy sounded young and scared. "Okay Dean, tell you what. You slide your gun out of the room like I told you to and just sit put. As soon as you slide your gun out, it'll be over for you." He looked over to see Karen waving for his attention. She poked a finger at the clip board. Don nodded. "Dean," he added. "The two in the room with you... are they okay? Anyone hurt in there?"

"_We're fine_," a woman's voice called out. "_Just scared_."

Don could hear the woman also pleading with Dean. '_Please... do what he asks. You don't want to do this... please put the gun away._'

"C'mon Dean," Don finally said. "A lot's going down... we got critical patients in rooms with no staff. There's a code going down right now that got delayed because of the staff caught here and there's at least two people shot. Be smart. Toss out the gun."

A couple minutes later, the door to room ten opened and something black slid along the floor. It came to rest next to an overturned wheelchair, near where Danny had crashed the crash cart. '_Aptly named,_' Don mused. He glanced over to the corridor where Danny was pinned down and wondered what trouble the CSI was getting into. Things were quiet... almost too quiet. '_What are you up to, Messer?_'

The waiting room had emptied out when Danny cut through. The only ones in that area of the hospital were the rest of the security team. They stood at the far end of the waiting room, watching the nurse work on their injured colleague. Danny snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Are those doors the only way in and out of ER?" Danny asked.

One of the guards shook his head. "No, there's a back staff entrance over there," he pointed down another corridor that led further into the hospital. "It's admittance by code only."

Danny nodded. "Okay, this is what I want. I want your engineering crew here in two minutes with plans to the emergency room. Let's go!" He snapped his fingers again and the one guard took off running. Another got on the radio.

It actually took about five minutes, but Danny had the plans spread out along the wall with two engineers, four security guards, a nursing supervisor and now two uniformed cops - the first two on the scene. "Room twelve's in the corner," one of the engineers pointed.

Danny nodded and flipped through a few more plans until he found something that caught his eye. "What's this?" he asked and laid the new set of plans on top of the floor plans to the ER.

"Pneumatic tube station," came the reply. "Transports specimens directly from the emergency room to the laboratory. This is the main line for that system; this one is the line for the interdepartmental system. Both lines come into the emergency room; this one is here at the station; the other is behind the triage desk."

"What if one gets stuck?" Danny asked. He had a plan formulating in his mind. It was time to see if it would actually pan out. "How do you work on it?"

"It's a tough system," the second engineer piped up. "There's junctions all along this line. We can go up into the ceiling anywhere along here to remove a junction and a clogged tube."

"Will it support... say..." Danny made one of his infamous faces and shrugged. "...a hundred seventy pounds or so?"

One of the two uniformed cops were the first to catch on. "You want to go up into the juncture between the floors and cross over to room twelve and drop down on the suspect?" His tone was a cross between astonishment and disbelief.

"You don't believe it; neither will our guy," Danny pointed out. He turned to the engineers. "Well? Will it or won't it?"

The two conferred between themselves and finally turned back to the detective. "It should," the first man finally relented. "It'll be a really tight squeeze. You'll have to pull yourself along this line here... until it splits off. Then stay on the joists or you'll drop right through. And avoid the light grids; they'll be hot."

Danny nodded as he took it all in. He then shrugged out of his jacket and his dress shirt. "Let's get a ladder in here," he said. He handed his clothes to one of the officers, along with his gun.

The cop's eyebrow went up. "You're not taking your weapon?"

The two engineers set up a ladder and removed one of the ceiling tiles just outside the ER back doors. Danny climbed up far enough to look down the line. He motioned down and a flashlight was placed into his hand as if he'd said 'scalpel'. "Nah," Danny told the cop. "I don't want nuthin' slowin' me down up there and I can't risk the noise of metal on metal." He pulled off his belt also and handed it off, then poked his head into the darkness. The flashlight showed him just how tight it was going to be. One of the engineers tugged on his pants leg and Danny looked down.

"Here," the man said and handed up a different flashlight that was strapped to a band. "Fits around your head; hands-free."

Danny nodded his thanks and secured it to his forehead, adjusting his glasses in the process. "Okay, give me some measurements."

One of the security guards held the blueprints. "You'll follow that tube line down until it makes its first turn," he said. "From there, continue ahead another ten feet. Then make a ninety degree left turn and work your way across for another..." he checked the numbers twice. "...eight feet. That should put you near the center of the room and you'll be able to slide one of the panels aside enough to see and make adjustments."

"You know, if he sees you, you're a dead man," one of the cops pointed out. "That ceiling won't stop a bullet."

"Please be careful, Detective," the nursing supervisor told him.

"Careful's my middle name," Danny mumbled and worked his way up the ladder and into the tight space. He had to move on his stomach, using his arms to pull him along. He figured he could move about six inches at a time. Two pulls would be one foot. Moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, Danny worked his way toward room twelve.

Behind the nurse's station, all Don could really do was wait. He hated waiting. He heard the sliding doors whoosh open and he peered over the wall to see several uniformed officers with riot shields working their way down both sections of the corridor. Behind one of the men and shield was Mac Taylor. Mac scrambled into the station doing a low crawl and worked his way over to Don. "What's going on?" he asked. "I got the call that there was a hostage situation here. I sent Danny here to investigate a homicide."

"One turned into a multiple," Don explained to both Mac and the arriving officers. "Danny's down that hallway there with several patients and staff and a human head in a box. We've got three armed men at least. I've seen three; there could actually be more. The two I saw ducked into rooms thirteen and ten. The guy in thirteen is laying outside the room; I shot him. Kid in ten's name is Dean Walden. He threw out his gun about ten minutes ago but he's afraid to come out because he says the guy in twelve will kill him. Guy in twelve's name is Tony Kennecott. S'far as I know, he's doing a solo act in there. But until I prove it, I don't believe it."

"Anyone in there with him?" Mac asked.

Don nodded. "One vic from a stabbing, one doctor and one nurse. Two shots were fired in there; my guess is at least one person is dead. I was waitin' for backup before I went over to twelve to try and take the guy."

Mac nodded and glanced down the other corridor. "Where's Danny? Down there?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, he pulled some guy to safety and then covered to clear the better part of his section of civilians."

"Has there been any noise from room twelve?" one of the officers asked.

Don shook his head. "No, and I'm gettin' ready to move. Cover me. Mac, sit tight if you would."

Mac nodded and kept down behind the station desk with the rest of the remaining ER staff.

Don walked out the other side of the station in a low crouch and eased over to the wall the rooms were on. Using whatever cover he could, he slowly worked his way toward room twelve. Keeping low, he opened the door a crack and peeked inside.

The door was yanked open from behind and Don fell into the room. Before the officers could do anything, the door was shut again with Don Flack on the wrong side.

By the time Don sorted out which end was up, there was something cold and hard pressed into the back of his head. "Drop it," a voice snarled at him. "Drop it or die." Don glanced over at the nurse and doctor, both of whom were on the floor and had their backs to the one wall. The doctor was bleeding from a spot on his shoulder. The young man on the gurney appeared dead. Don sighed and slid his weapon across the floor, away from the two seated.

Back at the station, the rest of the officers had just finished securing the other corridor. Two more ducked into the station. One was Detective Vicaro. "Flack got caught," one of the officers informed the other two. "He's inside twelve."

"We got everyone else secured over there," Vicaro said. "Now we gotta save Flack's ass."

"Where's my guy?" Mac asked.

Vicaro gave Mac a blank look. "_Your_ guy? Who's 'your' guy?"

"Detective Danny Messer. Flack said he was down there."

Vicaro shook his head. He remembered Messer from the one crime scene involving the weird thing with the car and the rack and the nude hitchhiker. "Messer ain't there, Mr. CSI," he informed Mac. "Although, there is a cabinet in room two taped shut and says 'Evidence - do not open' all over it. I'm guessin' that's your gig."

Mac frowned._ If Danny wasn't down that hallway, where was he_? "Where is Danny?" Mac asked out loud.

Back in room twelve, Tony Kennecott made Flack kneel near the gurney and lock his fingers behind his head. He kept the gun dug into the back of Don's head. "I'm gonna enjoy this," Tony growled. "A rival and a pig, all on the same trip. Say good night, copper..."

Don braced for the cold shock death. From that distance, it would be instantaneous. A crash sounded around him and he felt his body thrown forward. The nurse screamed again.

Danny had arrived just in time to see Don get shoved into the room. He had originally planned to drop down behind Kennecott and disarm him. Instead, he put his hand on the wrong section. The entire section of ceiling gave way and Danny ended up crashing down on top of Tony. Sections of tile and insulation rained down around him as he landed. Tony's gun went flying and he landed on Don, shoving him forward.

At the station, everyone's head came up at the crash and subsequent scream. "Never mind," Mac told Vicaro with a frustrated sigh. "I think I know where he is."

Vicaro and the officers moved in quickly but carefully. The door was thrown open and the nurse and doctor rushed out in the confusion. None of them were ready for the scene that lay before them. Flack was on the bottom, half-buried by Kennecott. Kennecott was in the middle, underneath what was left of an entire ceiling panel. And Danny Messer lay on top of the whole thing, covered in dust, debris and insulation. The hands-free light that was on his forehead was now perched askew.

Danny did a very fast mental accessment of his body and determined that he was okay to move. He moved back slowly as the uniformed officers swarmed the room. Kennecott was yanked to his feet and handcuffed. Danny dusted himself off and nudged Flack with the toe of his shoe. "Hey. You dead?"

"I wish," Don grumbled. He shifted under everything and slowly turned onto his back. He saw Danny, the debris and the Danny-sized hole in the ceiling. "You did not... tell me you didn't... how did... never mind. I don't want to know."

Danny flashed him a lop-sided grin and offered the detective a hand up. "What? You didn't think I was gonna just let him air-condition your head, didja?" He started out of the room toward the station with Don on his heels.

"Danny, how in the _hell _did you get _up _there?" Last thing Don knew, Danny was evacuating patients and guarding a human head. He went from there to the ceiling!

Danny spotted Mac at the station and nodded a greeting. "Um... I used a ladder," Danny replied sheepishly. "Hi Mac."

Mac nodded. "Danny," he said simply.

The Emergency Room was once again alive with activity, only now there were more officers on the scene than staff. The back doors opened and the nursing supervisor arrived with the engineers and the officers that Danny had left behind. Danny handed off the flashlight and the officer handed him back his shirt, suit coat and weapon. "Sorry about the mess, guys," he told the two engineers. "I missed a support beam."

The two men smiled at him. "We'll get over it," one told him. "Just glad it worked out for you."

Mac caught Danny's attention. "Okay, tell me what we're dealing with here from _our_ job now that you're done playing rodent."

Danny nodded and reached over silently to close Don's jaw, which had fallen open in astonishment. "Okay," Danny told Mac. "We've got a human head delivered via postal mail from a bogus address. It's in room two, in a cabinet taped shut and marked. Not much we can do here; we can bring that back to the lab. No ID yet on that one." He looked around. "Um... one vic around the corner there, security guard that got shot by one of the perps. Bullet's still in him... abdominal. Perp from room twelve is in custody; his gun is somewhere in the mess in twelve. Two vics from room twelve. One is on the gurney, dead from a GSW to his head. Other was a doc that ran out when I landed. Those are the only ones I can account for... gotta ask Flack about any others."

"Did you fire your weapon?" Mac asked Danny.

Danny shook his head. "No, I did not," he replied very formally.

Mac looked around. "Okay..." he then looked Danny up and down accessing him. He was filthy, covered in insulation and Lord knew what else. "All right," he started again. "Danny. Get the gun from room twelve, bag it and tag it. Then get photos of where you left the box, document the fact that you left it and the details behind it and head back to the lab. I'll stay here, get Flack's take on things and process what's left." Danny nodded and started for room twelve. "Oh, and Danny?" Mac piped up again. Danny stopped and looked back at Mac over his shoulder. "Cold shower, thirty minutes," Mac told him. "Treat it like you would a haz-mat. You're covered in insulation. Don't take a hot shower. It'll get into your pores."

Danny nodded. "Got it, Mac, thanks." He headed into room twelve to get the pistol, bagged it with a bag from Mac's kit, then headed back to room two. He was a little surprised to see the young aide Sarah there. "Didn't they evac you with everyone else?" Danny asked.

She smiled at him. "They were going to, but I told the officers that I was in charge of that cabinet; it was a chain of custody issue and that I would stay down and stay here. And I did."

Danny pulled out his camera and snapped off a half dozen shots of the cabinet and the tape that crossed the doors, then turned and took two of Sarah. "I'll need your full name and personal information," he told her. "You may have to give a deposition if anything ever comes of this." Finally, he removed the tape, photographed the box in the cabinet, then took it down and set it on the counter.

She nodded and gave her information to Danny when he was ready for it. "Is there really a head in there?" she asked.

He nodded. "'fraid so," he told her.

"Do you know whose?"

Danny shook his head and put the notepad and camera back in his kit along with the pistol. "Nope. That's my next job right after a shower." He packed up everything and started out. "You be careful," he stopped at the doorway. "This hospital job is dangerous work."

She gave a little laugh. "I think my job's a little safer than yours," she told him. "Days like these are the ones you laugh about ten years from now. Some newcomer will complain about a hard day and I'll get to counter with, 'once upon a time, we got a head delivered in a box to our department... and that was the quietest part of the whole day'. Unfortunately, they don't all live happily ever after."

"Sad but true," Danny sighed and headed back to his vehicle. He went back to the station and dropped the head off at the coroner's office with the comment, "Call me if the rest of him shows up. One if by land, two if by sea, three if by parcel post." He then headed for the locker room and a cold shower.

Five hours later...

By the time Danny headed for home, they were no closer to knowing who the head belonged to, and the stories of his exploits at the hospital were running wild. He put the key into his apartment door and started to turn the knob when the door was yanked open and he was pulled inside. He let out a startled yelp and reached for his weapon before he actually recognized that it was Don Flack who'd grabbed him. Don took Danny's keys from the door, closed it and locked it.

Danny had given Don a set of keys to his apartment for emergency purposes about three weeks earlier. Don decided that his day had been bad enough to warrant invading Danny's space. He felt an overwhelming surge coursing through his whole body and he needed to release that power. As soon as he relocked the door, he pressed Danny's back against the hallway wall and pinned him there. He captured Danny's startled mouth with his own and pushed his tongue inside. Danny tasted like coffee and cinnamon; a usual combination for him. His hands ran over Danny's sides, arms, chest. He snagged his fingers into the opening of Danny's dress shirt and pulled it apart sharply, then pulled his undershirt from his pants waist and slid his hands up across Danny's bare chest.

Danny was totally out of breath by the time Don first broke the kiss with him. He felt totally clueless about what had gotten into his friend. Don's hands were all over him! "Don, I..." He was silenced by Don's soft lips back on his mouth once more in a passionate, mind-blowing kiss. He'd felt his shirt being ripped open and heard buttons hitting the hardwood floor. After Don shoved what was left of his dress shirt over his shoulders and off of his body, Danny slipped his hands on either side of Don's waist and lost himself in the kiss.

Don's hands were everywhere. He simply could not get enough of Danny: his touch, his taste, his scent. With his mouth still ravishing Danny's, he tugged the smaller man toward Danny's bedroom, then pulled him in and closed the door with his foot. Danny's t-shirt came off immediately thereafter, followed by his belt. Danny kicked off his shoes before they became hopelessly tangled in his pants because he had a feeling that's where Don was heading. Sure enough, trousers and his underwear came off together in one fast tug. Don snagged Danny by the wrist and roughly shoved him face down across the turned-back dark green, navy and burgundy quilt on his bed. "Stay there," Don growled at him. "I'm not done with you." He quickly removed his own pants and underwear and let them hit the floor together.

Danny started to turn over until Don smacked his ass hard. Danny let out a startled yelp at the throbbing sting. "OW, Don that hurt!"

Don didn't reply except to kneel on Danny's bed and put one knee on the center of Danny's lower back to hold him in place while he made short work of the rest of his clothing. He'd had about an hour to make things ready for when Danny got home, and he was wasting no time implimenting things. As soon as he was equally naked, he straddled Danny's back, facing his fine, round ass and ran his hand lightly over the surface.

Don had him pinned to the bed and Danny knew what was coming next. "Not so hard," he started to say when Don's hand came down sharply once more. The resounding crack filled the room and Danny let out another yelp and squirmed to get out from under the larger detective.

The minute Danny moved, Don smacked him three more times hard in rapid succession, each time eliciting a cry from the man beneath him. "Sit. Still!" Don growled at him. "You don't do what I tell you and I'm sick of it," he added, punctuating each word with a smack to Danny's reddening ass.

Danny grew very still at that comment. His heart pounded and his vision started to blur. He couldn't seem to stop the moisture that tugged at his eyes, threatening to spill over into tears. He knew this was coming; he just didn't think, couldn't believe, that Don would hurt him. He could feel heat radiating off his own skin as Don smacked him a couple more times. "I'm sorry," he finally choked out.

Don took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then gently ran his hand over Danny's very red skin. "Sorry for what?" he asked.

Danny couldn't believe that Don wanted him to admit that he was sorry about saving Don's life. Maybe, just maybe, he could be tactful about it. _How to phrase this just right... _"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you told me to stay put." '_There. Nothing about being sorry you did it... just that you didn't listen_'He braced for another blow.

Don ran his hands across Danny's ass, gripping it in his hands. That was exactly what he wanted to hear come from Danny's mouth. Well, it wasn't the only thing, but it was the immediate thing. Finally, he shifted his weight from Danny's back and turned around so that he was laying on top of the man. His hands slid over Danny's arms then across the man's broad shoulders. Danny groaned as tired muscles protested the pressure. He felt Don's breath on his neck, then across his shoulder and finally right next to his ear. "Thank you, Danny," Don whispered. "For being there for me." He nipped lightly along Danny's jaw, then kissed along the man's neck toward his shoulder. He smiled when the CSI shuddered underneath him. "I thought I was gonna die," Don added quietly. "Tonight I want to live and I want you. Tonight I'm gonna ravish you tonight Messer."

Danny's chest tightened and his breath sucked in quickly. Don's words seemed to go right to his cock, which was urgently trying to stiffen under both bodies. He could tell that Don was already hard by the way the man's cock pressed against his throbbing, stinging ass. A quiet moan escaped from his throat, which grew louder as Don sucked a spot on the back of his neck. He could tell that Don was seriously marking territory.

Don pulled back to look at his handiwork, admiring the reddish purple bruise now forming on the back of Danny's neck, near his shoulder. He then worked his way down Danny's back, licking, kissing and nipping at his skin until the smaller man was squirming under him. When he reached Danny's waist, he gave the man a nudge. "Turn over," he instructed.

Danny rolled over, propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at Don as the man's blue eyes peered lustily back at him. Danny's erection was evident now, free from the pressure of the bodies and the bed and his ass still seemed to radiate heat into the blankets. Don gave him an evil grin, then wrapped one hand around Danny's shaft, then dropped his mouth over the head of his cock. Both of Danny's elbows gave out and he landed back on the bed with a slight thud and a deep-throated groan of pure pleasure. His whole body seemed to come to life. Danny reached down and ran his fingers through Don's thick, dark hair.

As soon as Danny touched him, Don pounced on him again. He turned his cock loose and tugged Danny so that he was laying normally on the bed instead of across the width. He grabbed one of Danny's wrists and secured him to the bedframe with one of his neckties, then tied off the other one. A third necktie acted as a blindfold.

"Oh, c'mon Don..." Danny practically groaned. "I'll lay put. I promise. Don't tie me up."

Don reached over and caught one of Danny's nipples between his fingers and gave it a sharp squeeze. He watched as Danny's back arched up at the pressure. His breath sucked in and his mouth fell open. Don leaned over and captured Danny's mouth with his again, their tongues each exploring the other's.

Danny was so breathless he was dizzy. Don was driving him absolutely insane! His cock ached and lay stiff against his abdomen, his balls felt heavy and loaded, his ass still throbbed from that spanking, his chest burned under Don's fingers and he couldn't see where Don would go after him next. He felt Don shift his weight on the bed for a minute, then felt Don's hands on his cock. He was... _rolling a condom on him? Wait... what was up with that_? Don then shifted up near Danny's head and Danny felt the detective straddle his upper chest. Something soft yet muscular tapped at his lower lip. Danny's lips parted slightly and Don shoved his erection into Danny's open mouth. The CSI nearly gagged when Don's huge member hit the back of his throat, but he shifted and adjusted enough so that he could suck on it without choking.

"Ohhh God, yeah, Danny," Don groaned loudly. He gripped the top of the headboard for support as he shifted his hips ever-so-slightly, moving his engorged cock in and out of Danny's greedy mouth. He knew he was close and made a valiant effort to pull out before he lost his load down Messer's throat. He had more planned.

Danny panted for air as Don shifted back down so that he now straddled Danny's hips. He had already shielded Danny's cock and dabbed the very head with lubricant. He quickly dabbed a bit more lube onto his own hole, then gripped Danny's cock with one hand and slowly pressed down onto the man's shaft. He watched as Danny's mouth dropped open in shock before he let his own head rock back as he seated himself completely on Danny's erection. "Gotcha," Don grunted.

Danny squirmed as Don's body seemed to squeeze his cock. The man was tight, hot and felt _SO _good. He tried to buck his hips and push deeper into Don's body but the larger man was calling all the shots here. Don continued to tug on Danny's little nipples until they were rock hard. He scratched lightly down the center of Danny's chest until the man was moaning and arching his back against the touch. He moved up and down excrutiatingly slow, feeling Danny's cock every inch along his stretched skin.

"God, Don, _please,_" Danny begged.

Don smirked and seated himself fully on Danny as deep as he could get the man. "What's the matter, Messer?" Don cooed to him. _God, Don was SO hot, he almost couldn't stand it himself_. "I'm just warming up." Don shifted his hips forward, which elicited another loud groan from Danny. Danny's arms pulled against the neck ties but he wasn't going anywhere.

Don reached over on the side of the bed and picked up the second condom he'd laid there and rolled it on his own aching erection. He had to slow it down or both of them would be spent and he wasn't ready for that to happen. Slowly, he slid off Danny's cock and reached back to fondle the man's testicles, rolling both orbs in one hand. When he gripped the top of his sac, Danny's hips cleared the bed. "Ahhh GOD, Don!" he shouted. "Fuck, you're killin' me here!"

"Ya think so, Messer?" Don whispered. He leaned over and licked up Danny's side, from his waist to his neck, then latched on once more to leave another mark. Danny's head turned to allow him access. "You're mine, Messer," Don whispered in his ear after leaving Danny another very nice, dark purple bruise on his neck. He continued to nip his way down the light hair on Danny's chest until he found Danny's nipple with his tongue. He sucked on the little rock, then blew his cool breath across the wet skin. Danny swore and arched again off the bed. "You ready, Messer?" Don said teasingly. "You sure you want me? 'Cause I'm gonna ravish your body. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't even scream anymore."

"Please," Danny whimpered. Don smiled. Danny was ready.

Don moved between Danny's legs, then hoisted them up and out of his way. He leaned in and pushed into Danny, the only lubricant was that on the condom. Danny's hands fisted and he let out a strangled cry. White dots of mixed pain and pleasure shot behind his blindfolded eyes as his body succumbed to Don's attentions. Don exploded in a frenzied rush. He rocked in and out of Danny hard and fast, feeling the smaller man writhe beneath him. The more Danny cried out and moaned, the hotter and more alive he felt. "Fuck, Danny," he grunted. "Geezus!"

Danny's cries and groans eventually took on a mewing sound with each breath exhaled. The pain was gone; but the pressure of Don rocking into him, brushing across his prostate with each thrust was absolutely mind-blowing. He felt the pressure in his balls drawing up for release. Seconds later, Danny cried out and flooded semen into his still-sheathed cock.

Don was nearly there himself when Danny came. He continued his pace, thrusting into Danny seemingly harder with each push. Sweat ran down the sides of his face and down his back from the exertion. Three quick thrusts pushed him over and he spilled his orgasm into the condom with a grunted "Christ!"

As soon as he caught his breath, he pulled out of Danny in one fast motion and removed the condom from his cock and Danny's. He knotted both ends and tossed them into the bedside wastebasket, then sat back and watched Danny. The smaller man was trembling from exertion and adrenalin. Don trailed one fingertip up Danny's side, observing as the man seemed to twitch from the sensation. He could get so very accustomed to this.

He watched Danny lick his lips; it was one of the man's cuter habits. He leaned over slowly and pressed his lips gently to Danny's, licking across where Danny's tongue had just been. This time he was gentle, passionate, tender. He cupped Danny's cheek with one hand and stroked across the skin with his thumb. He then slid his hand up and removed the necktie from over Danny's eyes. The bright blue eyes blinked open, moisture behind them. Don leaned over and kissed Danny tenderly once more before untying his hands. Once Danny was free, Don pulled him up, wrapped his arms around Messer's back and just held him close for a minute. He could feel Danny's heart practically beating its way out of his chest.

Danny leaned into Don's chest and buried his face in the man's neck and Don's arms enveloped him. He wasn't sure what had gotten into Don but he had the feeling that this was a bit more than a head in a box or a hostage situation. Don had practically raped him, if it was possible to rape the willing. Danny hadn't been an unwilling participant but Don's rush did spook him a little. Now, as Don ran his hand up and down Danny's back lightly, he relaxed a little.

Don glanced down at the man in his arms. Danny was almost as sweaty as he was; his own skin was now chilled from the central air of Danny's apartment and Danny was still trembling slightly. "You okay, Messer?" he asked quietly. Danny nodded. "You sure? Don't clam up on me now. Talk to me."

Danny nodded again. "I'm okay," he finally found his voice as it cracked to life. "I'm sore..."

Don squeezed him a little tighter in comfort. "Good," he whispered. "I wanted you to be sore. I want you to remember tonight for awhile." He felt Danny's mouth shift into a smirk as he was pressed against Don's shoulder.

"Bastard," Danny mumbled. His tone was taunting.

"Don't 'bastard' me, Messer... I'll take your ass to the shower and take you again."

"Sadist," Danny teased.

"Aw you love me and you know it," Don countered. "Say it." He nudged Danny playfully. "G'wan. Say it."

Danny nodded and nuzzled his head against the soft hair of Don's chest. "Yeah, I love ya, Flack. Only God knows why."

Somehow, hearing the words lit a fire inside Don. The tone and text might have been slightly off, but hearing Danny say that he loved him was like throwing gasoline on a bonfire. He felt all warm inside. Even his body responded. He wasn't sure how much was adrenalin and how much was this new warmth, but he felt a familiar urge... light, but it was there. He shifted toward the edge of the bed with Danny still in his arms. "C'mon Messer," he tugged on Danny. "Shower. I want you again."

Danny groaned. "Aw c'mon Don... I'm sore. I'm not kiddin'."

Don picked him up off his feet. "I'll be careful, Danny. I promise. I'll be real easy on you." He carried Danny to the bathroom and kissed him every time the man even hinted at a protest.

Like most of Danny's seldom-visited apartment, the bathroom was basically neutral. Walls were white, fixtures were white and the only indication of color were his blue and white towels. Don often teased him about his lack of style, to which Danny always countered that neutrality _was _a style. Don set Danny down and glanced in his bathroom closet. "You got lube around here?"

Danny shrugged. "Hell if I know what's here," he mumbled and started opening drawers to the bathroom vanity. On the third try he found a bottle of gelled lubricant. "Here..." he said. "This do?"

Don took it from him and prodded him toward the shower. "Perfect. Get in." He went back to get a condom from the stack on the bedroom nightstand, rolled it on, then squeezed a generous amount of the lubricant into the palm of one hand and rubbed it onto his marginally stiff cock, stroking it back to life.

Danny watched him, fascinated for a minute as Don teased his cock back to life. "Don, I'm really sore. I'm not kiddin'..."

Don nodded. "I know, and I know. You _really_ have a problem with this?"

Danny actually considered. "Nah, I guess not," he finally hedged, then added, "But I'm _still_ sore."

"I'll be careful," Don promised him. "Get in and turn the water on."

Danny stepped into the tub and slid the curtain shut, then turned on the water. It shot out of the overhead spray and ran down in fine droplets down the length of his body. He threw his head back and opened his mouth, letting the water flow in and over him. Eyes closed, he heard Don snick the shower curtain closed the rest of the way and press his body in close to Danny's.

Don turned Danny around to face him for a minute. He pulled the man so that they were chest to chest, the water soaking both of their heads. His lips found Danny's in a deep, tender kiss. His arms wrapped around Danny's waist and his hands gripped Danny's ass cheeks. His fingers dug in gently as he tried to massage some of the soreness away. Danny's arms snaked around Don's neck and he took his turn to give Don a hickey. They'd either both have explaining to do tomorrow to nosey colleagues or wear higher neck shirts.

Don's fingers darted down Danny's crack and he smeared a generous amount of lubricant over Danny's hole. Danny was loose now but he felt the man tense up at the touch. "Easy, lover," Don whispered. "Easy... relax... I gotcha." Don's hands fumbled between their bodies and he stroked Danny's cock, trying to will it back to life. He was only half-successful. Somewhere he vaguely remembered Danny saying something about his recoup and turn around time. If he remembered correctly, it wasn't five minutes, and normally Don's wasn't either. For some reason, today he was insatiable. He turned Danny back around and guided Danny's chest up to the wall, then pressed into the man slowly and very carefully.

Danny cried out when Don penetrated him again. Even with the lubricant, it burned at first. True to his word, Don was gentle this time; he made no forceful moves and after a couple of minutes, Danny's body adjusted to the intrusion. Don just rocked him back and forth, keeping Danny's chest up against the shower wall. He turned the spray warmer to relax them and gently rocked into him.

Don's hands roamed up and down Danny's body, just touching in tender exploration. Danny's skin was soft, the hair on his chest light and thin and his body was tight and fit. Don pressed in close, becoming like a second skin on Danny's back. His lips brushed along Danny's collarbone and he kissed up his shoulder and along his neck. Finally, he took Danny's one earlobe in his mouth and sucked on it. "So hot, Messer," he whispered. "You're mine... always have been since the moment I laid eyes on you."

Danny groaned quietly as Don whispered in his ear. He felt so totally possessed that he almost couldn't think straight. "In qualsiasi momento, donvunque, bambino," he whispered.

The Italian did Don Flack in. His orgasm wasn't nearly as intense as the first one, nor did he produce much. Not that it mattered; this time was about the intimacy they shared. He stayed inside Danny as long as he was able, holding him close as he came back to his senses. Finally, as he eased out of Danny's body, he leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I love you Danny."

Danny sighed and flashed a small smile. He wasn't sure what was happening between them. They'd started out as associates. When he first met Flack, he thought the man was a little arrogant and hard-headed. Through a mutual colleague, they'd started to hang out together as part of a group, shooting hoops, playing pool or air hockey. Somewhere down the line, they became friends. From there, things turned intimate. They both still dated other people; they both still considered themselves heterosexual... now Danny wasn't so sure. He was never one to get weirded out about things like gender or race; it simply didn't matter what the person was outside... it was how they were inside that counted. Now, a couple months after the first time they were intimate, Don was telling him that he loved him... and Danny found that he had mutual feelings. Maybe it was a brotherly love, he couldn't be sure. Something drew him to Don Flack just as Flack seemed drawn to him. Maybe it _was _love. Maybe it was fate. Either way, who was he to argue with the fates?

Don stroked Danny's soaked hair, then gently massaged his shoulders for a minute before turning the man around to face him once more. "You're awful quiet, Messer," he said. "You okay?" He was wondering if Danny was starting to get creeped out by the intimacy. After all, Don had just said the big three words to him. If it wasn't something that Danny was ready for, he might have just hung himself.

Danny nodded. "Just thinking," he admitted.

"About what?" Don picked up the bar of soap and ran it over Danny's shoulders, working it into a full lather. He loved Danny's shoulders and could spend hours running his hands over them.

"Fate," Danny replied absently. Don's hands felt fantastic on his aching body. Danny's head thudded backwards and gently connected with the shower wall. His lips parted slightly, Danny's blue eyes closed again and he listened to the water spray, Don's breath, then his softly spoken words.

"Do I want to know?"

Danny shook his head and yawned, water filling his mouth. He made a small fountain with it and squirted Don. "Nah, probably not," he admitted once his mouth was empty. He peeked an eye open to see how his playfulness was received.

Don smirked at him. "Cute, Messer. Real cute." He handed off the bar of soap and stepped under the spray. "Wash up."

Danny lathered up his arms first, then his stomach. The over spray from where Don was standing under the shower managed to trail the soap down the length of his body. Danny lathered up his hands and washed Don's back for him. He loved the way Don's back felt: strong and powerful. His ass was tight and firm. After Danny washed Don's ass, he couldn't resist. He swung back and let his hand fly... just once. The resounding crack echoed throughout the bathroom.

Don jumped, hissed and turned around. "You lil' shit!" He couldn't help but laugh; he'd left himself open for Danny to retaliate.

Danny grinned. "You had that comin'," he countered. "Get yourself taken hostage."

Don tipped the shower head so that Danny could rinse off while he washed up. Danny had washed Don's ass; Don turned Danny around to return the favor and wash off the excess lubricant. He'd removed the condom right after he pulled out of Danny but he felt that he needed to wash his groin last. "Uh, you care if I crash here tonight, Messer?"

"Nah, I don't mind," Danny said with a shrug. Rinsed off, he stepped out of the shower to let Don finish up and to get them both towels. "But don't expect me to tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story."

"Awww," Don groaned from the shower. He rinsed off and shut down the water. "No story?" As he opened the curtain, Danny lobbed the towel right at his head.

"I'll give you a story," Danny told him. "It starts, Once upon a head..."

Don groaned and chased Danny to the bedroom.

FIN


End file.
